


Let's Call It A Date

by Oboeist3



Series: I Used To Have Short Hair [6]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Multi, Season/Series 04, Trans Character, Trans Eliot, smut is perhaps a bit generous but sex stuff happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: When your job description is con man by commission, having a regular date night is a real struggle. Luckily, they have a system.





	Let's Call It A Date

See, they have a system. Parker starts sex when she feels like it, which makes it hard to plan in advance. The spontaneity is fun, even a little intoxicating, wondering if that long stare into the soul is a precedent for being jumped or not. But their lives are already so unpredictable, at the whim of a mastermind and good causes. Eliot needs structure in his life, and Hardison lives for clearly written code, the if-then rules.

So they share a calendar, digital of course, because Hardison's got some kind of vendetta against physical things. Eliot transfers most of it to an actual one in his apartment, because there's something about writing 'date night' on real paper that makes him feel happy.

The three of them have a dinner dates on Mondays or Tuesdays, where Eliot cooks and makes sure there's enough leftovers to last until Thursday, and they watch a movie and cuddle. Sometimes more, if Parker's feeling like it. On Friday or the weekend, every other week, they go on an outside date, rotating through who gets to chose the activity.

Parker likes festivals and concerts and dances, big crowds with lots of stealing potential. They usually get her to put the items back, at least, and sometimes she'll hum a song she heard the day after, get it stuck in all their heads. Hardison likes plays and tournaments and viewing parties, gets into arguments about whether or not that media is canon and 'oh hell nah you can't ship that they are _related_!' Eliot, he likes quiet things, a walk in the park, a beer at a pub they do not work in. He doesn't need the distractions of other people, he wants his time to be spent with them exclusively.

He did take them to a hockey game, once. Parker was thrilled at the close contact, rough and tumble nature of it, and ten minutes in had already learned to yell at the ref. Hardison had shivered and tucked his chin into his shirt, but Eliot knew that was a front to hide that he was hacking the kiss cam. It was the stupid kind of sweet that he excelled at, and Eliot obliged him, just this once.

He kissed him like he imagined people kissed at weddings, sweet and on display, even though he knew Hardison would wipe the footage after. He gave Parker a kiss on the cheek too, even though she was busy telling the referee to go back to Ottawa if he was going to be such a ninny!

As Eliot was walking back to the car after the match, a smile on his face, sort of leaning on Hardison as he held Parker's hand, she suddenly stopped moving, looking up from a cat picture sent to her (Alice's) phone. She just sort of stared for a few seconds, lovely and unknowable.

"You know, you guys can have sex without me, if you want." The fact that this had seemingly nothing to do with what had happened the rest of the evening should have made it weird, but somewhere in the pinball machine of Parker's mind, it had connected up.

"Like tonight?" Hardison asked, and despite complaining about being tired, a little bit of energy seemed to come back to him. She tilted her head to the side, considering.

"No, just in general. Tonight I want in. I think I'm going to ride you." she declared, looking directly at Hardison and nodding once, and external confirmation of the winner. Well, they were all winners here.

"O-Ok. Cool, cool, cool." he croaked, and stumbled over the flat sidewalk. Eliot sighed and took the keys from his pocket, because now he had to drive them home, unless they all wanted to end up dead. Suicide via horny nerd, nasty way to go. Not that he wasn't affected, but he had better self-control.

"No making out in the back." he ordered, and Parker pouted.

"Aw, but it's fun!"

"It's distracting. You can wait fifteen minutes." She didn't, though. Instead she had produced a sheath of condoms and a traveler's size bottle of lube from somewhere and told him to find an empty parking lot.

Eliot did as he was told.

* * *

So now sometimes Eliot and Hardison have sex, just the two of them. Sex they get to plan ahead of time, through text, because putting it on the date calendar seems weird and almost rude. They go to Eliot's usually, because Parker will just hang out at Hardison's place, but she doesn't like his apartment.

"It looks sad." she had said, which was a little bit rich, considering hers was in the middle of a warehouse, but Eliot had to admit there was a certain Parker-esqe feeling that made it more. Little personal touches his place doesn't have. He keeps everything important to him in a duffel bag, in case he has to run, and most of his day-to-day has drifted to Hardison's, so it's pretty bare bones. Still, it has a bed and four walls and a working shower, so it's good enough for sex.

There's certain perks to just two that Eliot hadn't anticipated, like getting to figure out which things Hardison likes best from him without Parker confounding the results. He's especially fond of being manhandled, crowded up against the wall and kissed senseless. Eliot probably should have figured that out sooner, what with how often Parker did it to him, but he always figured it was more of a Parker thing, liking the control.

Hardison likes taking it slow, sometimes, and he's absurdly good at opening himself up, his self control splintering on his own fingers. One time he came untouched with nothing but fingers and Eliot's praise, which was...something else. The kind of something else that distracted him mid-con, just thinking about it, to the point that he actually got hit by a fucking Uruguayan, which was just embarrassing.

Not that it's all smooth sailing. Eliot's been trying out being the passive one, the one who is loved on rather than doing all the work, because he's not sure if he doesn't like it or if it's just something he's never been able to trust someone to do. And even though Hardison is gentle and receptive and not threatening at all, the first time he tries to go down on Eliot, he ends up pushing him off the bed and running to the bathroom to hide.

He has the nerve to calm him through his staccato breathes too, placate the panic, and when he comes out and says sorry, for not being able to handle this, Hardison balks.

"It's not a matter of handling, Eliot. If you don't like this, we're not doing it. If you want me to stop, one word and I will. In fact, if you never wanted to have sex with me again, I-I'll admit I'd be kinda bummed, but I'd do it. Or not do it, I guess."

"Alec, I promise that your attempt at oral was not so terrible that I'm never going to have sex with you again." he says, and the laughter split the awkwardness of the moment, made it seem less daunting. Eliot throws on his boxers and when they cuddle on the bed, he rests his head on Hardison's chest, which was new, and nice.

"I like it when you call me that."

"Hmm?" he hums, floating in that space between being awake and asleep.

"Alec. You don't say it much. Don't get me wrong, the whole growly Hardison thing is cool, pretty hot, and I know it'd be a dead giveaway around Nate and Sophie. But I, uh...figured if we're supposed to be vulnerable and whatnot. So, now you know." he says, does the NBC jingle and everything.

"Thought it was a Parker thing." he admits, taps short words in Morse Code on his chest. He gets the temptation of hers now, when she presses against scars and bruises. It's a lot of real estate to just be looking at. Maybe he should feel girly or something, but he doesn't. It's comfortable.

"Well, I happen to be _your_ boyfriend too. First name privileges all round."

"Ugh, don't call it that." he groans, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, because reaching for the pillow is too much work.

"What, first name -"

"Boyfriend. It's juvenile. Some of us aren't in their twenties anymore."

"What do you prefer, old man? Partner? Companion? How about associate, there's a hint of scandal in that." he teases.

"Shut up, Alec." he says, and the fact that he can feel his breath hitch, now that's a nice feeling.

Maybe he should start calling him that more often.


End file.
